Fourth Step
by Soshika
Summary: A surreal world, built on legend and paranoia. Races do not comingle, they go to war. The very thing which creates Life is being used now against it, and only the wayward student and an outcaste from another race know this. Shounen-ai, AU, ZxC [part 7 up]
1. Hedgehogs

  


Fourth Step /:/ Part 1  
  
Sometimes a fourth step over that last boundry is all it takes to turn the world upside down into something completely unrecognizable. 

****

It was getting closer to midnight, or at least that was what the young man was going to guess. It was hard to approximate when you were twelve feet underground, far away from the moon or the stars. That wasn't so bad though...If you lived down there all your life, if your people lived there and everyone you knew kept to these tunnels under the earth, you started to get a little used to it. 

His hind claws were small, about the same as the Birds or Dragons. Feet, made for walking upright, a far cry from the hand-feet or paws of some species. Thick digging claws in the place of toes, that was about all. They dug deep into the packed down earth of the tunnels, leaving little dotted trails behind in the dust. It wouldn't be hard for him to be followed, but down here why worry about that? His people had one purpose, and it tended to be around them at any given moment. The oddly shaped crystals embedded in the walls would glow softly if you passed, lighting the way. They had a name, it wasn't hard to remember if you were hearing it your entire life. 

Materia. On the surface, people thought it was a source of power and dug mines to find it. It was the Hedgehogs, his people's purpose to collapse those mines. Nobody was supposed to touch the Materia, because there was really only one good way to explain it. Looking back at his tracks in the dirt the young man reflected. When you leave a track in the snow or mud, that track is a representation of your existance. You yourself are another being entirely apart from the tracks, but without you the tracks could not and would never exist. And if you are wiped out, there will never be any more tracks like your own. It was that simplex. Materia was the person in the snow, people were the tracks. A shadowy projection of its presence out into the world. Many species didn't like that idea for obvious reasons, so the entire working ways of Materia was kept down underground, a secret in written works and the memories of the Hedgehog people. 

Because they controlled not only their own lives but the lives of so many others in this way, people feared the earth-dwellers as well. Sure, you could try to explain to a Dragon or an Angel that you were only the keeper and not the master but damned if they listened. Hedgehogs could not control the materia but rather be controled by it, and they didn't mind. It was like living closer to the mute genius who knows the secrets of the world and may write them out for you one by one. It was also impossiable to distinguish anything about individuals from Materia itself. Age, race, colour, name, personality were all things that affected only the creature on the outer world. The Materia themselves were just crystals, no more and no less, and you could no better tell your own Materia from the fish you planned to eat for dinner. When Materia cracked, the person or creature it projected died. When the person died, the Materia did not neccisarily crack however. That was where ghosts came from. 

Down the hallways lit by life itself, the black-haired Hedgehog moved at a leisurely pace. He was in his young or mid twenties, cool and self assured with the immortality being young brings. Meeting a friend down the tunnel to see if they could make heads or tails of the Materia around them, maybe find their own...Who knew? Up ahead another Hedgehog, one with darker skin and cropped short hair waved his front claws. Tridactyl and easily the size of a full grown man's chest, the front claws were the underground race's best weapons and tools. The blunt spikes along their backs did very little in the way of armor. The black haired Hedgehog waved back, picking up his pace to catch his friend quicker. 

"I thought I'd find you here. You still looking over these two?" Raising a claw to scratch the scar on his left cheek as he reached his friend, the black haired Hedgehog, Zack, smirked. "Hell man, you really are a hopeless romantic." 

The darker skinned Hedgehog shrugged and turned his gaze back towards the ceiling of the tunnel where two Materia glowed in a steady pulsating rythem. Black and Green, glowing in and out of white. Zack smirked as he watched the Materia beating with its own life. "What do they call that thing again?" 

"Heaven's Aura," The other Hedgehog replied, folding his claws behind his head as he looked up, shaking his head. A few locks of short hair brushed in his face. "Whoever named it was worse than me, if you're callin me a hopeless romantic. It happens when two people on the outer world meet and fall in love completely." 

"Which ain't so rare." 

"It's rarer than _you_ think, you dumbass. And this is even more rare, that they're not only both on the surface of a tunnel down here but that they're so close together. You almost never see it, sure as hell. Problem with the Aura is it doesn't descriminate." 

Zack yawned and stretched, the glow like the slow fading in and out of a dying night light. "You're repeating the same stuff you hear all your life again. Worse than a brainwashed Angel, man. Come on. If we're going to go looking for something interesting down here, how about looking for something _new_? These two aint goin nowhere." 

"God forbid we find _yours_ and it starts glowing, huh?" 

"Aww, Shin, then I'd be madly in love with you wouldn't I?" Zack flopped his huge digging claws around the shorter Hedgehog's shoulders and batted his eyes feminely. Shin rolled his eyes and made a disgusted sound, picking Zack's claws away and stepping aside. 

"Shut up," He muttered, turning his back and walking away, the faintest outline of the spikes on his back showing under his teeshirt. He was starting to get annoyed. 

Zack didn't care, bounding down the hall after Shin and throwing his words mockingly back at him. "Aw c'mon, you even said, Materia and the Glow don't descriminate between race, age, sex-" 

"Will you shut _up_?" 

"Rich, poor..." 

"You're _really_ fuckin askin for it, Zack." 

"Youthfully handsome with long spikey hair and ass ugly shorties like yourself-" 

"Oh _THAT'S IT_!" 

The sounds of shouting cursing and a quick fight were absorbed into the dirt on the walls, but the Materia overhead flickered consistantly in rythem. Somewhere on the world above, two other beings glowed in the same rythem with one another. 


	2. Golden Bird

"Go out into the world and die!"   
  
The taunts and screeching voices from above drew nearer the Bird, his wings beating franticly to gain speed, altitude, anything to get away before they reached him. Perched on rocky crags around the mountain, brightly coloured heads bobbed as the voices chased after the outcast, fleeting like angry sparrows. The more he fluttered and bucked around them, his pattern eratic and weaving on the coiling updrafts, the more they seemed to slam against his frail body and beat him down. Circling across the mountain, riding a wave of insults, he wondered how long it was going to be before the first one of them took wing and came after. Not long, not long at all. iPlease, god, let me catch a wind out of here.../i  
  
"Go die! Go out and die! Freak!" The voices of the others mingled into one overbearing screeching tone, coming from all sides. He fought the urge to coil his wings around himself and fall, freefall downwards like a child stepping out of the nest before it could fly. It would have given them such satisfaction, that wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't wrong to be like he was, it couldn't be. Dragons accepted it, every species accepted it except his own. The Birds, the frantic survivalists of the world wouldn't stand for relationships that couldn't continue the species line. They were the one of the oldest races and the most widespread...and they had become so by sticking to the strictest guidelines possiable for survival. The Bird children born with hands, rare as they were, were put to work for the others who could only use their feet. Organized breedings with other Bird subspecies kept variety...but homosexuality did not promote the species nor add to it.  
  
Nobody had known before. Family groups weren't tight and loners, so long as they worked, weren't treated any differently from anyone else. But all it took was one slip of his own tongue during a conversation with another Bird late at night, and the next morning they were jeering at him from the craggy slopes, daring him to land while they sidesteped cautiously, heads lowered and wings folded behind their backs. Crests of feathers were fluffed dangerously, their golden sheen visable from a good distance away. Hundreds of the mountain dwelling Birds all tracking him with their eyes, claws clicking against the stones and scrubs. It was only a matter of time before they came after him now...  
  
"Bird killer! Bird killer!" The chorus of voices was nearly drowned in the flurry of flapping wings as the golden tinted winged ones took to the air, their streamlined bodies whipping around the outcast and shattering the fragile currents of air holding him up. Spiraling between the other Birds, the flock moved erraticly together and apart, each of the others kicking with their clawed hind feet at the outcast trying franticly to break away. On the air currents they swerved away only to reform around him, their talons slashing through fabric and flesh. Flecks of blood began to spot the feathers and faces of the Birds as they ripped at the outsider, tearing him apart in mid air.   
  
"Hands!" The frantic scream from the outskirts of the flock sent a shockwave of terror through the other Birds. Scattering franticly away from the outcast, the ruffle of feathers filling the air. Over the crest of the mountain pure white wings reflected light as the Hands cleared the edges of the horizon and came hurtling towards the scrambling Birds, screeching their own battle cries. The Hands, the break away Birds born with arms. The others knew the behavior, it was another raid. The Hands resented the Birds, refused to believe they'd been born from them. They called themselves another race, the Angels, and would kill anyone arguing otherwise. Felines, Dragons, Hedgehogs...Birds and Demons especially.   
  
The two feathered armies collided in the air, screams cutting through the air that was seemed to soak the blood from their battle and run it across the skyline, the sun setting in a sea of red. His wings giving out under the strain, feathers torn and broken, the outcast lost his delicate hold on the air and faultered, wings coming together as he fell backwards, downward, the body of the young Bird artistic as he careened towards the earth.   
  
The impact would have easily killed him, broken every bone in his frail body and left him twisted and forgotten. The Birds, as their society had been structured, would not have missed him. He was already listed on their records as dead...not the only one there this day from the way the fight was turning. The golden Birds of the mountain began tumbling downwards along with the outsider, his decent seeming almost slowed as the sun caught the droplets of blood from their bodies and reflected off their feathers, the air filled with falling golden bodies. It was such a long way to the ground, such a long way... 


	3. Striped Ones

uFourth Step/u  
  
Any travelling caravaan knew to pick up the curiousities encountered along the way. No exception befell the Striped Ones which threaded through the pine forests at nightfall. Their crisscrossed pelts mimiced the moonlight through the trees as they moved in packs, covering the ground like a ghost army. Rumors always surrounded the Striped Ones, rumors to which there may have at one time been some truth. Nobody truely know from what or whom they had decended, for unlike the other species of the earth they could be traced back to no less evolved living creature. They were gypsies, creatures spoken of in hushes and used to threaten children. iKeep out of trouble, or the Striped Ones will come and take you away./i  
  
In reality, the only creature which the Striped Ones were considering taking away lay sprawled and broken on a mat of pine needles on the forest floor, wings spread flatly apart as though crucified. In an oblong ring, the Striped Ones encircled the fallen body and sidestepped around it, examining from a distance. The bunched and loaded packs across their backs clattered against one another as the creatures touched shoulders in passing. Their language was an almost incomprehensable series of clicks and growls, words coming awkwardly through their extended muzzles. Reflective slit eyes, large and saucerlike, reacted in dialation to the Bird's glowing plumage. Through the tightly knit ring of adults, smaller Striped Ones darted towards the body and began to pull at the sunlit plumage, trying to win a feather for themselves. Stepping away and huddling, the adults showed little concern for their offspring. They were more mentally occupied with what to do with this new being. The rise and fall of its chest, though shallow, was plain. Unfortunately, so were the deep gashes and tears covering its body. Unless properly treated, the Bird would probobly die of either infection or starvation in a few days. Also there was no garuntee it would actually wake up.   
  
On the other hand, the shrewd beings were far from blind. The Bird's lithe body and nimble build would be attractive to any one of the other races. Even the stupidest creature could learn to serve. Besides, from the way the young blonde was torn to peices, he didn't have much of a fighting spirit in him anyway. Between the counting of claws and snapping of sharp toothed muzzles, the elder Striped Ones decided to bring the Bird along with them. Four Striped Ones returned to their camp to fetch one of the bamboo pens used for carrying livestock during travel. It would be small for the Bird, but they weren't interested in his comfort anyway. Only the profit he could bring.   
  
The Bird awoke when they tried to lift him from the ground and force his hindclaws into the cage. For a moment his eyes fluttered half-open and he fought off the urge to drop back into unconciousness, however comforting. The rocking of treetops above him and clattering voices nearby slowly dragged him out of the comatose state though. Stunned, then shocked, the young bird flared his wings outward amidst screams and yowls and was dropped suddenly against the ground. The impact rattled through his body, one that he was almost certain should have been broken and dead by now. For a moment he thought he might be knocked out again, but the darkness and disorientation passed and the Bird was left half-propped up on the crook of one wing, staring out at a ring of sloped faces belonging to those called the Striped Ones.   
  
For a moment, the ring of huge gleaming eyes seemed detered that their prize had regained conciousness and looked near the desicion of retreating. Their double-jointed legs folded up tightly, a ring of unidentified creatures watching for the first sign of hostility to sprint away. The cage designated for the Bird lay abandoned a few feet away from the sun-coloured creature.   
  
Shakey, weak from fighting and injury, the Bird curled his footclaws under his legs and stood, using the tips of his risiliant primary feathers to help himself upwards. Spattered with dirt and blood, their normal glint was washed to a dull wax-white. Bangs falling into his eyes as he stood, the Bird tried to take a step towards the Striped Ones on wobbly feet and fell to one knee, his thin sides shaking as he forced words between the labored breathing. "Tell me...Who you are..."  
  
Collective grins washed over the Striped Ones as they glanced to one another, bidactyl hands rubbing together expectantly. The soft and slightly high pitched tone of the Bird's voice would be another selling point. Not willing to let their quarry ask more gibbering questions, the pack closed in tighter least the injured Bird try to fly.   
  
"What's happening, who are you..." The Bird's tone arched into the darker more frantic regions as the Striped Ones moved closer, hands outstretched. Like a sideways jab of lightning, realization struck the blonde. The Striped Ones didn't understand a word of the common tongue.   
  
Gibbering as they dove in upon the Bird, the Striped Ones folded his thin limbs awkwardly against the feathered creature's body and forced him into the tight cage, slamming the gate and clacking it shut with a crude lock. Doubled over painfully, the blonde could hardly breath in the position the cage forced him into. It felt as if his ribs were digging into his own lungs, and his wings were forced forward at a painfull angel, their tips extending around the edge of the cage like a dirty orange-white skirt. As the Striped Ones stepped away and gripped the bars of the cage, lifting it upwards, the young Bird felt a choked lump trying to force itself upwards in his throat and a dull ache inside his temples.   
  
iI should have died,/i he inwardly hissed, having nothing else in the cramped cage to keep him company but his own self pity. iAt least then I wouldn't be the prisoner of monsters.../i  
  
****  
  
"Zack, are you paying any attention at all?"   
  
"Not one iota. Please keep going."  
  
The heavyset Hedgehog standing against the dug out walls grunted deep in his chest and shook his head, digging claws clasped at his back. He was quite convinced by this time that the young apprentices he'd taken were doing their best to turn his spikes grey at the roots. They were completely shameless in anything they did, which included completely ignoring what was being told to them. He'd been slightly hopeful today that maybe they'd pay attention, at least it had started out that way. The taller dark-spiked hedgehog, Zack, had been staring dreamily towards the ceilings of the tunnels ever since the start though. Oh well, dreams would persist. The aging Hedgehog cleared his throat and glared over his glasses, growling between words. "Well I would isuggest/i, Zachery Knightblade, that you would extend at the very least pretended interest."  
  
A grin crept lopsided onto Zack's face, crinkling the scar on his left cheek. Pulling his gaze away from the ceiling, he swept his long bangs from his eyes with one large digging claw and spoke. "I thought the point of this lecture was to see the truth inside things?"  
  
Fighting off the intense urge to knock Zack's head against several of the walls and shake sense into him, the elder Hedgehog sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. "If you were paying attention in the first place, please give a quick synopsis of what we've just gone over." His tone was tried and monotone. iEvery day with the constant harassment.../i  
  
Waving his claws dismissively, the dark haired youth never faultered in his grin. "Not a problem. You're trying to teach us that we can be doctors to a soul the same way people are doctors to a body. Just like a doctor can walk into a room and tell by the scent if a patient is sick or not, we're meant to be able to tell through touch if a soul's under fire. We do that with the Materia."  
  
"So called because of what property, if you're so intelligent?"  
  
Eyes rolled heavenward again as Zack muttered from the side of his mouth. "So called because not one lecture about them matters..."  
  
"Zack!"   
  
"Yes?" Snapping to abrupt attention, there was no hiding the apprehension in his voice. He'd crossed a line and he knew it.  
  
The massive balled fist of the greying Hedgehog slammed against a wall with enough force to shower dirt down on their heads. "Materia is so called because it is the Mother of us all, the matron of life itself! The power inside a single stone could keep a city running for years, if you want to expend a life to do it. We are the only people who iknows/i this which is why we must ieducate ourselves/i and Inever/i allow another species access to the Materia stones!"  
  
"Bite my head off while you're at it, I know all that!"  
  
The retort bounced off the elder's grey spiked back as if it had never been flung, his attention diverted elsewhere. With a cryptic expression, the elder ran his claws along the wall, following with the tips of the digging claws embedded into the dirt. Walking down the corridors, he hardly noticed that his student's claws were also following the unseen trail in the earth. In a flickering annex of tunnels, the elder stopped and gazed upwards, his eyes squinted even behind spectecles. Zack stood behind, claws sunk deep in the dirt.   
  
"What do you make of it," the elder's voice growled in the low lighting, his gaze never disengaging from unseen sights in the above world. "Zack?"  
  
"Stone Throwers," the dark haired youth replied grimly, eyes drifting away from the dirt ceiling.   
  
The elder hedgehog was given no chance at reply, for by the time he had turned away, his student was gone from view. The nearest exit from Hedgehog tunnels was half a mile away, but even above ground any Hedgehog could follow a distressed life force. The question wasn't finding the source of it. The question was instead the safety in doing so.  
  
****  
  
Hours later, the trail in the dirt was still fresh. Even if it hadn't been, the party which was on the move took no special care to hide the faint trail of white feathers they were leaving behind. Middle claw digging into the dirt with each racing footstep, the dark haired Hedgehog sprinted through the forest and around trees, ducking under obstructions or scrambling over them as the need arose. Although the party he was following had a head start, he had the advantage of speed and of course the fact that he wouldn't loose their trail overnight.   
  
In the long shadows of evening, a rattling like broken branches drew the young Hedgehog's attention. The closer he crept towards the source of the noise, the more pronounced a yellow-red glow made itself against the pale undersides of leaves. Backing up to one of the pines, Zack fought to keep his spikes flat against his back. If they shot outwards now, the sound of tearing fabric might give him away. Not to mention he might find himself pinned against a tree by his own body. Breathing sharply, he made about face and plucked his hindclaws from the loamy earth, standing disconnected from the underground. A glance around the edge of the treetrunk reflected firelight in his steely blue eyes, firelight he wanted to inspect from a safer angle.   
  
Hedgehog claws were not designed to climb, but even so Zack made good use of the sharp tips as he shimmied up the rough bark of the tree, ignoring the dribbles of sap that stuck hair to his face, cloths to his body and his body to the tree. Falling pine needles stuck against his skin and itched, making him miserable but there was nothing that could be done. Until a branch that was thick enough to support his weight could be found, the Hedgehog would have to put up with the discomfort.  
  
Halfway up the treetrunk, branches finally began to thicken and taper at the right angle. Wrapping his legs around one and sinking his claws into the bark, Zack slid out onto his stomach on the treebranch, gazing down towards the firelight.  
  
Shadowy sillouettes jumped against his eyes, outlined in the fire. Double jointed and bent over like something long extinct but furred, earless and tailless. Stone Throwers, creatures which would cast around the lives of others as if they didn't matter at all. The Striped Ones, in this case. Stone Throwers, however, could be of any race. Dragons and Angels seemed especially fond of shattering the shimmering Materia that soldified deep in the earth. Narrowing his eyes and taking stock of the campsite, Zack tried to trace down the owner of the feathers. It was hard to tell from a distance, but a splotch of dusky white at the far end of camp...That could be it, that icould/i be it...  
  
Sitting up on the treebranch, Zack swung his legs around and prepared to work his way back down the trunk...before coming nose to sloped-snout with one of the giant eyed shadowy Stone Throwers who had been sitting silently behind him, awaiting attention. The Hedgehog gave a shout and the spikes at his back instinctively flared, shredding a hole through the fabric of his shirt. Zack considered jumping, but hardly had time before a black spider-web knit net landed around his shoulders and ensnared his spikes, trapping him in its nigh unseen confines.   
  
"Well," the dark-haired Hedgehog muttered to himself as the Striped Ones lowered the net carefully from the branches above, signaling to one another as another cramped-looking cage was being assembled on the ground below. "This sure as hell wasn't what I meant to do."  
  
The only way Zack had been able to fit into the little cage, which was meant more for carrying small animals like pigs or dogs than humanoids, was to curl into a fetal position. Even so, his spikes still stood out and rattled against the bamboo bars, and his head jolted harshly against the roof-bars of the pen whenever it was lifted or dropped without warning. Although the Striped Ones took a while in their march back to camp, Zack soon found his own prison deposited next to that of the white-feathered creature he'd been following. The light build of the creature and soft features forced the Hedgehog to do a double-take at the blonde, the flickering firelight not helping in shadowy distortions. "Oh, whoa," he muttered, somewhat dumbfounded when the thought finally worked its way through. "You're a boy."  
  
Wings which were obviously stretched at angles unnatural to their build ruffled a little as the blonde lifted his head and glanced out of one eye at the Hedgehog. When he spoke, his voice was dark but somewhat broken. Forced cynicism, probobly one of the better coping mechanisms for the pain he must be in, Zack decided. "What are you, some sort of deformed Angel?"  
  
Zack snorted and tried to rear back, but knocked his head against the roof of the cage again. "Maybe I should be asking you that, Feathery. See these claws? These spikes? I'm a Hedgehog, man. Never had wings and wouldn't know what to do with them if I got 'em."  
  
Shadows flickering on his face, the feathered creature regarded Zack once more and lowered his chin to his knees. "Oh," He muttered, shoulders stretching in what little way they could. "I've heard about your kind. Magicians and hypnotists."  
  
"No, now you're confusing us with Felines. What're you, anyway? You look like the deformed Angel to me."  
  
"I'm a Bird," the blonde's reply was concise. "But I don't belong to a clan or nest any more. I'm nameless and rejected."  
  
"Bird, huh? Family's important to you guys, isn't it? What'd you do to be kicked out?" Zack shifted in his pen and tried to find any position that was more comfortable than his current to sit in. It didn't work. "I'm Zack, by the way. Knightblade."  
  
The nameless Bird sighed and rubbed his cheek against the torn fabric that covered his knees. "I was supposed to be knocked from the sky because I didn't like giant hanging chest-decorations, giggly dispositions and catty attitudes."  
  
"Ohh, so since you don't want to fuck girls they decided to kill you." Zack fell silent a moment, musing, before speaking again. "Well that's probobly one of the stupider things I've heard of."  
  
The blonde Bird snorted and grinned ever so slightly through the bars of his cage at the Hedgehog. "You're blunt."  
  
"So I've been told. So...Nameless..." Zack kicked at the bars of his pen with his hindclaws, watching the springy bamboo creak and return to its previous shape.  
  
Cocking his head slightly, the Bird regarded him as another fall of bangs covered one eye. "Hmm?"  
  
"When do they feed us around here?" 


	4. Light of the Soul

In the underground tunnels that the Hedgehogs dwelt in, there were very often less advanced creatures. They weren't exactly vermin, but they could be troublesome. As a result, the spiked ones would often set traps. In following the belief that all life was sacred and a result of the stones they tended, none of the race could bring themselves to willingly killing one of the creatures. Usually the traps were brought up to the surface and the rodent-like creatures released alive, and usually the little animals would dive straight back down the tunnels they'd just come out of. 

But during their stays inside the wire traps, anything within reaching distance of their bored and confined jaws and paws would be ruined and ripped to scraps. Fabric, clothing, food, wood or stone alike was subject to their curious prying attention. Sometimes the cages were lined with a high wall to keep this from happening, but the only fool proof way to prevent damage was to move things away from all the open sides. 

Apparently, Zack thought as he caught hold of the reigns to one of the pack birds through the bars of his cage, _Apparently the Striped Ones never had any vermin or traps to learn that from._

It only took a few moments for the caravan that had stopped in their travels to break into chaos when one of the carts began to get dragged through the camp. Cramped into an awkward position in his cage on the back of the cart and claws intertwined in the reigns of the pack bird's bridle, Zack didn't have much control over the animal. It spooked and bucked, dragging the cart through tents and over cooking fires. The wooden tug leaned dangerously to the right, riding on one wheel before the bird jerked in the opposite direction and it crashed back onto the ground. The two cages strapped to the flat planks jolted uncomfortably and both the Hedgehog and the Bird slammed their heads against the top bars on impact. 

In languages barely intelligable and nothing like one another, the Striped Ones shouted as they dove out of the way or tried to stop the run away cart. Rocks scooped into their multijointed tridactyl hands came in a volley towards the cages, their throwers hoping to knock out the caged Hedgehog with the reigns. The Bird barely seemed to notice the attacks, or if he did, the size of his wings in relation to the size of the cage wouldn't allow him to do anything about it. Zack, on the other hand, was taking a great deal of notice. Raising an arm to fend off one rock only meant getting hit in the side with another one, and the more he struggled the more the bird panicked and continued to sprint erraticly through the camp. And the faster the bird sprinted, the more slack got taken up on the reigns and the more they became entangled in Zack's claws and spikes. By the time the cart was overcome and held down, the camp was in a distorted chaos and no one had the desire to bet he least bit gentle towards their captives. 

The barred and latched roofs of the cages were flung open and the Bird and Hedgehog grabbed at with rough skinned triple-jointed fingertips. The bizzare turtle-esque garb of the Striped Ones jangled and clattered as they made a calculated circle around the two pens and threw and equal amount of stones and taunts into the cages. The Bird went placidly, unable to hide himself away or resist thanks to his wingspan. A few matted golden feathers came loose and lay at the bottom of the cage as he was dragged out, the pen overturning and clattering onto its side. He said nothing but glared towards the Hedgehog as the Striped Ones dragged him outside the circle, a few of their ranks following after and taunting in their language. 

Zack didn't have time to notice the Bird's glare or apathetic removal from the pen. He was too busy coiling into a small, spiked ball and raising his solid hackles in defence. The blunt but roughly shaped spikes tore upwards, standing up from his skin and shredding through the tunic he had been wearing underground. The sides of the shirt leafed down and fell around Zack's face where he held his claws in front of his eyes. Occassionally one of the Striped Ones would reach a hand in to make a grab at the Hedgehog, but Zack's people were instinctively hard to pull out of a curl. Every prod only prompted him to intake breath sharply, forcing the spikes aggressively outwards towards his assailants hands. The jibes and assaults from above and the sides didn't let up, although their cries became rythmic and discomforting. Something in the atmosphere seemed to become more and more defiled as they chanted, and Zack's claws itched with an oddly familiar sensation. 

"Stone-Terra! Stone-Terra!" 

If Zack had been paying attention to the outside of his pen instead of curling tightly together, he would have found that although the crowds were chanting with unison, they had parted ways and stepped back, leaving a passage through which one of their rank was now making a shuffling slow gait towards the cage. The Bird, restrained but in line of sight for the pens, stiffened and tried to draw his wings up against his head, shrinking downwards. He knew what was coming. 

The hobbling Striped One stopped a good few meters away from Zack's cage and reached into the folds of his clothing, his misshappen eyes flattening into dark lines as the multi-jointed fingers drew out a jagged and pulsating stone. The hue of the rock was slightly blue, slightly white, and light shifted across it like tigers' eye. For a minute the dimming embers of the trampled cooking fires caught the stone and it reflected, blue and shaking in the Striped One's hand, onto the backside of the Hedgehog. 

There wasn't any chance of ignoring the feeling in his claws now. Zack knew it, knew it before but only from afar. Before the Striped Ones had a chance to react by closing the lid of his pen or even holding him down, the Hedgehog was out and shedding his shredded clothing, rear claws using the pen as a perch as he stared down the open strip of land, not into the eyes of the Striped One holding the stone, but into the stone itself. Some of the pack moved in on him, but the Hedgehog jumped, sprinting on stiff muscles towards the stone. The Striped One holding it aloft seemed to notice his approuch only a second before Zack was within reach of the stone, his pitch black eyes opening a sliver more just as the Hedgehog's claw touched the exterior of the stone. 

The explosion of light and energy blew all standing backwards, and those who managed to hold their feet wheeled their arms for balance. Temporarily blinded by the flash, many groped blindly for handholds, chattering and snapping in their own language when they grabbed someone and dragged them down by accident. The Bird, eyes clamped shut through it all in fear, uncurled from where he'd landed on the ground and struggled upwards, staring dumbly at the picture in front of him. Like a painting that overdramatized a historic moment, the dark woods were tinted blue, everything faintly shaking off the glow the stone had bestowed upon it. The Striped Ones lay fallen or struggling to stand like the carnage of a war, but the Hedgehog and the Stone Holder were frozen in place. 

Slowly, very slowly, the Hedgehog's claw dropped from where it had contacted the stone to hang at his side lifelessly. Staring with eyes that didn't seem to see, jaw slightly slacked, Zack moved as if to step towards the Striped One holding aloft the rock in front of him. He moved, but didn't make it. The step brought him down to his knees with a shock that rattled the spikes on his back, but his gaze was still locked on the stone blindly. For a moment more, he was frozen like that. On his knees and staring up, spikes flared as if in worship. Then all at once, the spikes collapsed against his back, and the Striped One stepped back as the Hedgehog's body sagged inward and fell to the dirt with a sound like a dropped sack of potatos. 

For a short moment, it seemed like everything had gone the way it was supposed to. The Bird remembered the first time they had used the stone on him, however, and knew that wasn't the norm. The white hot pain and light had been for him only, had held him and left him shaking and gibbering, feathers dropping. The rest of the Striped Ones had simply watched, had not been thrown to the sides or blinded in anything like this. And the old one holding the stone knew it. Bringing it down from where he held it above his head, the Striped One gazed critically at the rock, clicking his tongue a moment before screeching and moving back with increased aggitation. Those few who had gotten to their feet all began to mill with the same degree of panic the Hedgehog had succeeded in sewing when he took over the cart. The Bird, momentarily forgotten, took a few shaken steps closer to see what was wrong with the stone. 

He need not have moved, for the Striped One who had held it in his hands threw it to the ground in disgust and whirled, scrambling off into the darkening forest and screeching aggressively. A few of the others followed him, but none dared touch the Hedgehog. The Bird seemed entirely without interest to them as they retreated from their camp into the darkness, their voices echoing out into the trampled clearing. Moving cautiously towards where the stone lay, the Bird scrapped at it anxiously with a footclaw, turning it over in the dirt. The ground sounded hollow when the stone turned over, thudding and clouding its prismatic surface with earth. Looking up again, slightly paranoid, the Bird noted they were left alone now in the clearing and closed his footclaws around the stone, balancing on one leg as he bent both his knee and back to inspect it at closer range. 

Even covered in dirt, the distress of the Striped Ones was obvious when he looked clearly at the rock. A fissure ran up through the center, a solid crack that had all but split the stone in two. Through some defiance of science, it held together. But the tigers' eye that had peered 'round from the surface was now gone, and with it the slightly etherial glow of the stone. The Terra-Stone had lost its magic. 

And since this obviously hadn't happened to the Striped Ones before, there had to be a reason for it. Or a place for the magic to have gone. Lowering his claw and the stone to the ground, the Bird looked up and around, his pale blue eyes landing on the only other body in the clearing, the one that lay untouched and unmoving where it had fallen. 

The nameless Bird folded his wings, regarding the Hedgehog. 


	5. A Morning in the Dark

The Bird could not for the life of himself understand why he was staying here. 

By very essance, his people were survivalists. Perfectionists in the field of living, and there could be no diviation if they wanted to survive. Birds were the oldest of the species, the most frail, at the biggest disadvantage from their lack of hands. They _had_ to fight viciously for survival, it was ingrained into their blood. 

His heart beat rapidly, and the thinnest of residual feathers on his chest ruffled in time. Any other Bird would have eaten the Hedgehog and run. That was their way. To take what they could, and work with it. 

But he was an outcaste now, without a nest to return to. And even if he did, he would forever be an outsider. 

The sun coloured Bird had no drive to survive. 

Huddled with his legs folded up against his chest, the Bird fluffed out his wings and enclosed them on either side of his body. Enclosed in a body tent of feathers, his eyes slowly closed themselves. On the ground at his feet, the Hedgehog didn't move. Maybe it was dead. Maybe it was dying. The Bird really wasn't certain what to do about it. 

The forest had grown silent hours before, the Striped Ones either lying low in wait to attack their run-away entertainment or having picked up and left. There were preditors out there- the Bird was quite certain. He could smell them, and feel them inching closer in the hollow bones of his wings. He'd die if he stayed here. 

And he still wasn't flying away. 

Shuffling awkwardly inside his wings, the Bird crab-walked on his claws closer to the Hedgehog's body. With a ginger tap, he prodded the unmoving shape's cheek. When there was no response, he couldn't berate himself for not being surprised. But something inside refused to let him leave the body alone. 

_Am I afraid to fight by myself? I could always just run. Am I afraid then...for him?_

Moving clockwise in his shuffling steps, the Bird's footclaw made a ritualistic prod on the Hedgehog's exposed skin. Something in the forest crackled and slithered against the underside of leaves, and the Bird jumped to face its direction, feathers flat against his body. Blue eyes fixated intensely on the thing in the woods, the thick scaled claws moving cautiously towards the Hedgehog's body. Almost unconciously, the golden bird found himself standing on the back of the other creature, his claws closed in a solid avian vice grip around a set of larger spikes. 

The thing in the forest rustled again, and the Bird lowered his head. Back arched and wings slowly spreading out to his sides, he hissed threateningly at the oncoming animal. Whatever it had been seemed intimidated by the display, the Bird could hear it begin to receed into the underbrush. He rattled the primary feathers aggressively and kept his head down in any case, cautious. 

Clack! The Bird found himself thrown backwards off the Hedgehog's spikes, and without hands to regain his balance went rolling in the dust, wings bending and feathers snapping as he went. 

The Hedgehog's spikes had all jolted upright, without any warning or indication to their hapless percher. At first, the brown armored plates quivered in the air, shaking and clattering against one another. Then, gradually, they began to receed until they lay flush, a harliquen pattern on the Hedgehog's back. 

"Kindly gradual awakening," The Bird groaned to himself, struggling rightside up and ruffling out his feathers. The tips of some had snapped, and lay strewn in the path he was thrown like confetti. The Hedgehog...what had his name been? Zack, the Bird thought. The Hedgehog was making painful sounds too, and moving slightly. It reminded the Bird of worms when there had been too much rain, and they came up on the rocks for air and crawled around slow, blind and confused. Yes, that was exactly what the Hedgehog looked like. 

Before Zack had a chance to pull himself up into a sitting position, the Bird's footclaws connected with his side and sent him rolling onto his back with a yelp of pain. The black rimming his vision had only begun to clear, and now was inching back as the Bird's face appeared before him. Framed in the black on a backdrop of the blonde hair, the blue eyes were fierce. Zack felt pressure on his chest as the light built creature moved to stand on him, wings folded back and glaring down. 

"What did you think you were doing?" The Bird's voice snapped. Zack could see the feathers on his shoulderblades inching upwards in aggression. "You and your...Ground magic. Whatever it was! You idiot!" 

Zack gritted his teeth and tasted dried blood on the back of his teeth, his stomach churning at the thought. His voice came out choked, pressured by the Bird pinning him down. "It wasn't my fault..." 

"You overturned the cart. You had to get them angry!" 

"They would kill us anyway-" 

"Had to make them use that Stone thing, didn't you! You spiked moron, if you want to die, leave me out of it." The Bird bent at the hips, leaning in with a growl. 

At the mention of the Terra-Stone, the Hedgehog's eyes blinked wide. "The materia- They were using materias, which was why it wouldn't hurt...me..." His voice trailed off in thought. It had hurt him. Quite a great deal. But it had let him live. It had let them all live, so near as he could see. The stones were never meant for aggression but it was as if this one had just simply refused to function. Backfired into the Hedgehog. 

"You look plenty hurt to me," The bird sniffed at the Hedgehog's face, his sky eyes now close enough that if Zack had wanted to stare at the slivers of colour in the iris, he could. Close enough that if he wanted to kiss the Bird, he could. 

The Hedgehog ignored logic. 

Before the Bird could react and pull back, Zack's claws had him by the shoulders and had already pressed their lips together. The Bird tensed, his feathers ruffling between the Hedgehog's claws, but he did not run or pull away. A moment went by and the feathered one's muscles began to relax. 

The Hedgehog took the lack of fight as an invitation. Very delicately, he moved his tongue between their lips and into the nameless Bird's mouth. The avian's pale cheeks flushed and his feathers stood on end again, but there were no clenched teeth barring the way. Again, another moment passed before the feathers relaxed against Zack's claws. Gingerly, nervously, the Bird's own tongue responded. A kitten kiss, a first time. 

As much as he didn't want to stop, without really knowing why, the Hedgehog gently pushed the Bird back. Gold feathers ruffled up again as the two creatures broke the kiss, a sudden flush racing across the Bird's cheeks. Zack released his grip on the soft shoulders, fearing he was about to recieve another beating. 

"What was that?! What did you do?" The Bird ruffled his feathers so high that he began to puff up, even in the areas where there was only residual down. 

"It's called kissing." 

"Who gave you permission to do that?! Not me!" Shaking now, the Bird sidestepped off the Hedgehog's chest and huddled down in the dirt nearby, eyes downcast but the blush on his cheeks glaring out against the pale skin. 

Zack rolled to his side, ignoring the tearing pain it left in his body. Facing the Bird, he spoke quietly, kindly. "You need to come with me to the city of the Dragons. They need to know what's happened here." 

"Why?" 

"Because if we don't-" 

The Bird's shaking shuddered to a halt as the eyes fixated on the Hedgehog again. "I meant why did you _kiss_ me?" 

"Because you're very beautiful." 

The nameless avian's feathers began to lower themselves to normal consistancy, but the red tinting his cheeks only intensified. He remained huddled close to the ground as the Hedgehog painfully stood, wobbling and limping a step before gaining solid footing. A digging claw immediately went to the ground-dweller's sides, hugging them tight as pain danced between his eyes, but Zack said nothing. Silence dominated the forest clearing for a few moments longer before the Hedgehog pulled in some ragged breaths and cast another look towards the Bird. As before, it was of muted kindess. 

"We need to go." 


	6. Footprints in the Snow

**note**: thanks to anyone who's stuck with my so far in terms of fic-ness. i know i havent been to consistant since school started again, but im changing majors to something less pretentious than english, so i SHOULD update more often. i REALLY appriciate your support. oh, and if you like ZxC, you could always poke your nose into http://gongaga.net/zack. once again, thank you all SO much for reading.

------

The walls around the Dragon city were built out of marble. The Dragons, maybe millions of years ago, decided to build a society for themselves. There was a rumor that the Felines had brought them ancient scriptures that predicted the way of the future would be through the advancing of their technology, and so the Dragons left the skies and cliffs they once lived on and moved to the ground. They still were, in all ways, Draconic. They still set out in war parties against the Demons, still held the old prejudices against the other races and regarded the Hedgehogs with a desperate paranoia. The marble that made up the walls also lined the hallways and walls of most of the houses the race lived in, although Zack only knew this from what he had been told. 

In truth, no Hedgehog had entered the Dragon city in all probability since it had been built. It wasn't that they weren't allowed, it was just that the co-mingling of Dragons and other races was frowned upon very seriously. Zack knew that if he stepped through those gates, he was going to be opening himself up to any number of abuses. That wasn't what particularly worried him. 

It was the Bird. The nameless gold feathered Bird that was now following him aimlessly that he worried for. The Dragons had been known to keep in league with the Angels from time to time, and if it was during one of those times of alliance, the Bird could be killed outright. The Hedgehog looked over his shoulder, concious of the fact that his spikes were just slightly raised along his spine. It was the pain left over from what the Striped Ones had done that was making that happen, he knew. He could feel the dragging sensation in his leg when he walked, limping even though he tried not to. He felt it all the way up the back of his throat, slick and bumpy like crocodile scales and making him nausous. But he wouldn't say anything about the pain. He had to get to the Dragon city with what he knew, despite how he felt right now. 

The Bird followed at a hobbling pace. The avians were not designed for ground travel, their gait on hind legs awkward and no more suited for keeping pace with a limping Hedgehog than doing high kicks. Birds could run, quite well, doubled up with their taut leg muscles. They could fly, and they could hop for short distances. But the gold bird was having a very difficult time keeping up with Zack. That bothered him about the Hedgehog more than the fact that he had taken control of this situation, more than the fact that he had been kissed against his will. It was that he, having no where else to be and nothing to do, found himself drawn in naturally to follow, to be part of a flock. And the Hedgehog was moving at a pace that he could not keep with comfortably. 

Looking back at the Bird, Zack grimaced. "Keep up. You can see the city from here, if you look." 

The Bird was angry that he kept waiting up for him. It was worse when Zack would stop at the top of a hill, or on the edge of the forest, and look back expectantly. Like he was doing now. The feathers on the edge of the Bird's wings trembled indignantly. "You still haven't said anything about why we're going," he snapped irritably, hopping the rest of the way towards where the Hedgehog now waited. "You had better say somethi-" 

He cut his own sentance short, seeing the marbled walls of the Dragon city now that he had reached the same spot where Zack stood. The rough rock barely tinted with its colours, unpolished and facing outward was something all Birds understood from the time they were young. Dragons were not their allies. Dragons, in fact, would often collect Birds and sell them to the Angels for a reward. The dark shingled roofs that peered over the walls reflected nothing but heat, the air above the city shivering with the heat of the entire population of the fire-breathing race. The Bird wheeled on the Hedgehog, whose dark blue eyes reflected very slightly the wall and city behind the avian. He stared at those eyes for no more than a half second before bringing his left wing up, to the side, forward and in a violent arch against the Hedgehog's face, the feather's rough edges slicing into flesh. 

Birds were not helpless. In air, they not only used their hind claws, but the edges of their wings had evolved peculiarly- the feathers there consisted not of the same soft, flexable material as the ones on the rest of their wings and backs but of a tougher, most deffinitly sharper substance. They were equiped with natural blades, as Zack found out quite abruptly as his right eye beheld a tiny arch of crimsion following the Bird's wing upward, and he felt a sudden stinging against the left side of his face. 

"What..." Zack tried to open his left eye, and could feel the eyelids moving, but in a way that was entirely incorrect. It made his stomach sink down to his knees. There was still no light, no shape, no sight in that eye. He covered the eye with his hand, closing his palm around the socket gingerly, feeling what had to be blood trickling along the base of his palm. It was cooling slowly, hard to sense, still almost body tempurature. The Bird took no notice. "What the hell was that for?" He spat at the avian and took a swipe with his right hand, the digging claws missing the Bird widely, his aim thrown off. 

"I'm no slave of _yours_," the Bird snapped back at him, lowering his head and arching his spine, the primary feathers on his wings splayed dangerously. "And there is no way I'm following you in there." 

Zack was furious. The spikes on his back were rattling against eachother, and he could feel the stinging of his left eye increasing. He tried not to move it in the socket, not to blink, but it was impossiable. The pain flared no matter what he did. His digging claws dug into his scalp as he tried to ignore it. "You could have just said that! You _could have just DAMN WELL said that!_ You didn't need to bloody _blind me_ you stupid Bird! What's _wrong_ with you?!" He took another swipe, with no more success than the first. This time, however, the Bird's eyes lost their slitted edge. 

"I know the way the Dragons work," he muttered quietly, the edges of his feathers ruffling in warning still. "I-" 

With his other hand, Zack grabbed at his forehead and let out a sound of frustrated rage, doubling down as if he would bang his head on something, if there was anything there. The blood trickled between his claws and spattered lightly on the grass at his feet. "You stupid _fucking_ Bird! You think I don't? The Dragons are the only ones who can give me some answers, though, don't you get that? Or are you Birds so braindead you don't even know when the earth _itself_ is being messed around with?!" He dropped his right hand, his body slouched over and panting, one eye upturned desperately towards the avian now, pleeding. "You can't be _that_ dense..." 

The Bird's shoulders dropped slightly, his feathers coming togther in a more relaxed way, his head lifting up again. He was begining to regert what he had just done, although he could not altogether understand why. The Hedgehog was going to put them both into clear danger, and as much as he found himself lacking at the moment for a survival instinct, he wasn't feeling outright suicidal. But... What was the ground-dweller talking about? "I...don't know what you're talking about. You never said anything." 

Zack straightened, still holding his claws around his injured eye. He could feel the surface of the skin around his eye and palm growing slightly sticky as the blood began to clot on the edges. With gritted teeth, he glared through one eye at the golden Avian. "Well excuse me for assuming you had some clue about what makes our world work. Don't you Birds know anything about Matter?" He watched through a dizzying half-world as the Bird shook his head. With his left eye injured and held shut, the golds of the Bird seemed tinted with fire. He sighed. "Look...I'll explain this to you simply. Think of our world like a field after it's snowed. Now, think of your life like a footprint in the snow. It's fleeting, there's a long generation behind it, and there'll be more before it. When spring comes, or another snow falls, you'll disappear. That's our life, in comparission to the field. Do you understand?" He waited until the Bird slowly nodded his head, taking an awkward sidestep away from where he had held his ground, ready to fight. Zack scratched his skull idolly with the tips of his claws, careful not to move his hand away from the injured eye. He still didn't know how deeply or badly he was cut, and the last thing he wanted was to be picking up bits of his own eyes from the grass. "Right...well. If you're the print, then something had to make you, you understand? That something is the Matter. Matter exists on this world long after we do, and has long before we do, and we never really can understand it or see it, because we can't get close enough. Terra stones, Materia...whatever you Birds call them. That's what Matter is, in a physical form. It's got great power," He tapped a claw in the air, "But it's _not meant for fighting._ It's not natural for Matter to destory its footprints. It can't, really, it'll only make more. However the Striped Ones got that Materia to be used against people...was deffintily not good." 

The Bird, following slowly, looked to the side and the ground a moment before venturing to open his mouth. The Hedgehog spotted him at first, and he stuttered, trying not to sound any more ignorant than he was already. "So...I am a print in the snow?" 

Zack shook his head. "Metaphoricly. You, here, standing in front of me, yes. You're a print in the snow, and you'll be gone someday. But Matter doesn't disappear. There's a part of you that you can't see, and you can't control, because it's much bigger than you and more powerful. But it is still you, you are just a part of it. That's what the Terra Stones are. That bigger thing." 

"How do you know-" 

"We live underground," Zack sucked air between his teeth, feeling a row of spikes rise as the sting in his eye sharpened. He doubted the Dragons would be willing to lend a helping hand, but if he didn't get it taken care of soon...He didn't want to think on it. "The stones grow in the ground, way deeper than you can dig from the topsoil. Hedgehog cities have been digging further and further downwards since we were first brought into this world. So we've known about the stones for a while now...That's why everyone's afraid of us. They know what the stones mean." 

The Bird shook his head. "It should be impossiable. The Striped Ones...The shouldn't have been able to even-" 

"Touch the stone, unless it was one of their own. That's right. Now you know why I have to see the Dragons." He sighed, gingerly trying to move his hand away from his eye slightly, making light sounds of pain when he felt the air hit the wound. Deciding against it, he closed his claws around the eye socket again. "The stones honestly aren't meant to be moved, or touched. Hedgehogs watch them, but we don't interfear. We never break them, never pull them out of the rock. Whatever the Striped Ones are doing, it's seriously dangerous." 

Silent, digging his claws into the soft soil, the Bird adjusted his wings against his back and looked down. Creatures of the air knew nothing of the things that went on underground, but he suddenly felt that because of this they, the Birds, were woefully unprepared for whatever would lie ahead. "I see." 

"You see?" 

"...Yes." 

"Then do you see why you shouldn't have _damn well cut my eye apart?_" Zack took a third, equally misaligned swipe at the Bird, who this time ducked his head down in response, even though the blow came nowhere close to landing. Despite his pain and despite the Bird's previous attitude, he couldn't help himself and smirked lightly. "Not like you knew..." He turned back towards the Dragon city, watching the shadows of the day passing over the walls. "Why are you following me, anyway?" 

"You told me we had to move. So I did." 

Zack shook his head, his arm starting to ache from holding position over his eye so long. "You had the choice to turn around and fly home. We aren't that far from the mountains. You _are_ a mountain Bird, right?" The Avian nodded, but said nothing. "So? Why don't you just fly back? It's dangerous if you stay." 

Again, the Bird said nothing, only kept his eyes downturned in silence. Zack watched him through one eye, his footclaws scratching into the dirt. "I heard Birds were survivalists." The Avian looked up at that. He continued. "You don't seem too concerned with staying alive." 

Silence continued to prowl in the air between them, the Bird boring his cold blue eyes into the earth-dweller. It seemed far too long before he spoke, both of them growing aware of the urgency with which they had to reach the city. It would be night soon. "I should be dead. To my people, I am." 

"So you're following me?" 

"What you said..." The Bird looked to the side, his eyes avoidant. "What you called me. Why I stayed with you. I don't understand it. I don't understand why. But I can't ignore it." 

Zack dug his claws deeper into the earth, watching the Bird until the golden creature's eyes turned back towards him, waiting for their response. "We're footsteps," Zack spoke evenly, his voice feeling oddly devoid of emotions as he spoke, especially considering what he found himself saying. "Whether in packs or in pairs, we were never meant to go alone." 

Staring at eachother in the dimming light, the Bird and the Hedgehog were aware of something that, as Zack had said, was much larger than themselves. They were but an extention, a residue, and had no true power. The feeling of it echoed outwards, a surreal ripple that trapped the two of them inside its rings. The first few gusts of the nightfall winds began to blow on the outskirts of the Dragon city, the two beings siloutted against the horizon. 


	7. Wind on the Fields

**note**: i would like to personally thank rydia (or VWL as you may know her...) for her support and encouragement on this fic. honestly, i doubt i would have been pouring so much effort into it if it wasn't for her. so, a shout out. X3 to rydia. because she keeps me up all night writing. kyaaa. visit her Zack shrine at http://www.houjun.com/zack/  
  


******

  
The winds were the most dangerous thing that existed in their world. At the breaking of dawn and the setting of the sun, uncontrollable gales would rip over the land, knocking down anything that could not stand to their force. Trees in the flatlands were stunted, the very curvature of the mountains shaped by the winds. Forests were rooted and gnarled in ways to avoid being torn away, and the creatures were all proficant in ways to avoid the deadly gusts.   
  
Night winds, from the West, tore a new hole through the heart of the land, freezing and falling into darkness as they went. Dragons were the only ones with no fear of the Winds, their bodies at high tempuratures capable of withstanding anything the Winds could dish out. However, the other races were vulnerable to the frigid blast, and had to seek their shelters. The wind would only last a few moments, but it was easily enough to freeze a being to death. Theories on the origins of the Winds stretched as far back through time as the histories of the Races themselves, and there was no explanation yet. The furthest West one could travel on foot was not far enough to find the source.   
  
Legend said that the cold wind was the Sun being blown out by the stars, and would be lit again in the morning each day.   
  
The first icey lickings of the Night Wind ruffled the grasses around the Hedgehog and Bird's bodies as they pushed their way slowly across the field to the Dragon City. Zack, limping and half blinded, could feel the impending dread growing inside his chest. They would probably be able to reach the gates, despite his pace. The problem was being let inside. If there was even a night guard, they might be unwilling to let the two beings enter. Neither Birds nor Hedgehogs were particularly favoured by the reptilian race...in fact, none of the other races were a favourite of the Dragons. And so the stalling at the Gate could mean they would find no protection from the winds.   
  
One of them would survive the Night Wind, Zack was positive of this fact. Every being, every race, every person from the day of their birth had been told over and over what to do if you were caught by the wind. To seek protection under something, or to give protection to someone else. He cast a quick glance back at the Bird, dizzying himself with the faulty perception and gritting his teeth as pain lunged into his body from his leg. There was no doubt what the Bird's reaction would be. To survive. And, even if he knew this, Zack understood that it was his nature to save the Bird.   
  
Hopping awkwardly behind, the Avian's gaze remained impassive. Despite their conversations, the Bird was as distant as when they'd first met, but less hostile. He was unlike the rest of his race, although Zack couldn't be sure if that was the natural way for the Bird, or if it was something he was only adapting towards. In truth, the Bird himself wasn't certain either, but was unwilling to question his way of existing.   
  
The Dragon city gate was within reach now, hulking and casting narrow shadows across the grasses. When Zack's free claws brushed forward to push the tall grass out of the way and recieved no resistance, felt a surge of both relief and terror. The tall grass might have protected them from the wind, if they had been smart about it. But the distance between the gate and where the grass grew thickly was too far to flee once the winds began their assault. They were too near now to give up, though, and he knew it. The half-blind Hedgehog pushed through the rest of the grass, determined, but a sharp pain in his shoulder held him back. Yelping and swatting with his free claw, he felt it impact with flesh.   
  
Shaking his head and making a hissing sound between his teeth, the Bird let go where had bitten Zack and ruffled his feathers. "You may not see it, but there's something headed this way."   
  
Zack's spikes raised off his back nervously, the claw over his eye twitching against his skin. He couldn't fight with only one hand and one eye, and even without the handicap, Hedgehogs were not known to be warriors. He crouched down into the tall grasses and pulled his knees tight against his chest, trying to see into the darkness surrounding the gate with only one eye.   
  
"Use your other senses," The Bird offered casually, lowering himself down beside the Hedgehog and tucking under his legs and wings. The golden Avian's feathers rustled slightly with the onset of the Winds, but he seemed to not notice. Zack sighed deeply and strained to do as the Bird had told him. His voice now a whisper, barely auidable over the rustling of the grasses, the Bird continued speaking. "It's a Feline, a merchant, I think. Something doesn't seem right about this. Can you see him yet? Smell him?"   
  
Faintly on the winds was the musky wet smell of a Feline, of fur and saliva. The lithe race of magicians and tricksters were not trustworthy, but were masters of any knowleges generally marked with 'forbidden.' Yes, Zack could smell him. He could see the Feline slightly now too, the edges of its body standing out along the dark stone face of the wall. He could hear him, the crackling sound the Feline's paws made when they touched down on the cut grasses around the gate. But most importantly, completely beyond ignoring, Zack could feel him.   
  
It was like a thunderclap each time the Feline lifted one paw from the ground, the sense of detatchment. Like the rumbling of a drum on stage, the feeling reverbrated in Zack's chest and throat, ran circles around his head. There was no mistaking it. "He's got one of the Stones," the Hedgehog whispered.   
  
The Avian said nothing, but rocked from foot to foot in his nest, raising his head to look beyond the grasses at the Feline. He could feel nothing in the way Zack could, but he understood that there were also things the Hedgehog could not see or sense about him. So he did not doubt.   
  
"I've never felt Matter acting like this...It doesn't do this underground," Zack murmured to himself as the Feline drew closer to the grasses, a cape drawn over its shoulders moving out behind him. Feline magic, the cape had to be, to protect him from the Winds.   
  
The Bird lowered his head dangerously, snakelike, following the Feline with cold eyes. "With the Striped Ones? Was it like this then?"   
  
"No, but it's a Stone. I've got to get it away-" He struggled to stand, only to find himself blocked as the Bird stood, his wings splayed towards the ground as a barrier. The icey eyes glared at him, now.   
  
"You can't see. Wait," he said simply, and crouched low in the grass.   
  
The Feline, for all his magic, could neither smell nor sense either of the creatures waiting for him in the tall grass. Having come directly from the Dragon city gates, he was still reliant on the daytime senses of sight. Felines experienced none of the visual impairment of night, and so were very visual creatures. But the Bird, crouched below the surface of the grassy fields, was invisable to the traveling Feline.   
  
His mind was on other things, even if he had caught the glimpse of gold in the fields. What he had come to trade to the Dragons was something their pitiful minds could hardly understand. It was a technology that the Angels were all too willing to accept, to pay for, to improve themselves with. The Felines had been the first to discover it- to discover that the presence of a Matter crystal in machines could change almost anything. The very existance of Matter crystals in the material world could warp already existing things- reality would become putty, to those who could properly manipulate it. But the Dragons, bullheaded and determined to be the last standing race in their own way, had refused to open their gates to him.   
  
Such was their own loss, the Feline thought, his tail lashing behind his cape. A few more steps and he'd be in the grasses, ready to bed down. His cape, his fur, all made him imprevious to those Winds the other species feared so desperately. Already the Feline could feel the soft grasses under himself. In the morning, after the Warm Winds passed through, he would journey back to his encampment. The other races were too primative to appriciate that which they had invented.   
  
That was the last thought that went through the Feline's mind before he reached the grasses. The Bird struck from below, his claws sinking into the Feline's legs and dragging him down. With the warrior presicion only a survivalist race could have, the Bird tore at the Feline's body with one hindclaw while holding his neck down against the ground with the other. Talons wrapped menacingly around the furred creature's throat, and the Bird hissed.   
  
The Feline did not understand his language, but he didn't need to. Robbery while travelling was common, and the Feline hurried with the knot on the bag that hung at his waist, dumping the contents clumsily out onto his stomach as the Bird dug claws deeper into his flesh. He would have cried, would have yowled or gasped or pleeded, but the Bird was crushing his windpipe between its talons. Tears began to streak the Feline's fur, the Winds growing more intense and ruffling the Bird's feathers violently until they nearly stood on end. From the grass to the side, the Feline thought he heard something make a muted sound of pain. Eyes rolling to the side, he just barely caught sight of something doubled over and glaring from between the tall stalks of grass.   
  
The feeling of a wingtip sweeping across his stomach made the Feline revert his gaze to the attacking Bird, but the sudden cold and sting on his gut pulled at his eyes, although he could not see. With fumbling paws, the Feline ran his hands over his fur, finding it slick and warm. Pain was slithering down into his stomach now, spreading through his body in a slow realization. Eyes rolled halfway back, he could see the Bird's sickening grin staring down at him. For an agonizing moment, the Bird's free leg lifted into the air, and the Feline thought perhaps the Avian was planning on flying away. Stupid, irrational hope, and the Feline knew it.   
  
The Bird's foot decended like a gilloutine, raking into the cut his wings had left, claws curling under the skin and ripping backwards as the Bird gave a sharp kick. Blood spattered the avian's scaled ankles and the Feline thrashed under his grip, but had no sound to make. Another raking of his claws, and the thrashing was growing more muted. When the Feline had gone completely still, the golden Avian paused a moment and studied his prey before giving a series of extra rakings along the already torn apart gut. With a final snort of disdain, his claws unhooked from around the dead Feline's windpipe, and the Bird stepped away from the corpse. Hunting doubled over in the darkness, the Bird found the contents of the Feline's pouch with his talons and clipped them down around the prize. Zack had been right, it was a stone, but different from the one used by the Striped Ones.   
  
Lifting his face to the air, the Bird felt the first of the Wind's serious blasts strike his feathers, his plumage instinctively fluffing up against the cold. Crystals formed against his lashes, and when the Bird breathed out now, his breath became a thin line of steam. In the grass, huddled, injured and half blind, the Hedgehog grunted in pain again. Hobbling forward with the stone clutched under his hindclaw, the Bird lowered himself down beside Zack again, depositing the stone at his side.   
  
"There."   
  
The Hedgehog glowered through his good eye, shivering violently, whispy breath hissing between his teeth like a deformed parody of the Dragons. "What's the point if I'm just going to die for you in the next two minutes?"   
  
There was no ready answer from the Bird, his head turned towards the direction of the Winds and feathers fluffed against his body. For a precious second as the Winds began to pick up, he said nothing. Then, abruptly, "Roll yourself up in the grasses. It'll protect you."   
  
Zack knew better than to argue with one of the Birds on survival, and reached up awkwardly with his free hand to pull a handful of stalks down around him. The Bird, feathers fluffed outwards, side-stepped awkwardly towards the Hedgehog and reached upwards, taking a bundle of the stalks in his mouth and pulling them downwards. Lowering himself down beside Zack, the Avian reached over and did his best to push down the grasses. The plants were a coccoon around the two creatures, both now curled tightly together and against eachother, watching their breath hiss outwards and away as the Winds began to roar overhead.   
  
"We'll still be cold. But this'll last the Winds. We have to get inside after that, though," Zack could hear the conflict in the Bird's voice. "That's up to you to do."   
  
The Hedgehog nodded, his teeth chattering in the cold. With his free claw, he reached out and rolled the Stone over on the ground, feeling the same thunderous tearing sensation each time it moved. The Winds ripped through the grasses around them, the entire feild seeming to bend and throw itself in all directions. At length, the cold air calmed and began to fade. The Bird was the first to move, rising up on his legs and shaking the grasses off himself. Zack, still shivering, uncoiled and shook his spikes, the grasses springing back upwards.   
  
"Where'd you learn to do that?" He watched the stoic Avian quietly, propping himself up on one arm. There was still pain creeping around through his leg, but it seemed to have calmed down since they'd stopped moving.   
  
Adjusting his wings against his back, the Bird looked out towards the Dragon city as he spoke. "All Birds know how to do it. We're born into it."   
  
"But Birds never share that kind of stuff with other races, you've always kept to yourselves." Wincing, he tucked his legs under himself and stood. "Why are you helping me?" The Bird lowered his head, stepping backwards through the grasses with his wings hunched oddly, but said nothing. Zack sighed, shaking his head. "I guess that's just how it is, huh?"   
  
"You said yourself, there is always a set of prints in the snow."   
  
_Damn,_ The Hedgehog set his teeth, regretting what he'd said before. _The last thing he needs is to get the delusions fourteen year olds do, and think we 'belong' together..._ "Look, you'll know when you find the person you've got to be with. That doesn't mean it's me. Live for yourself, okay?"   
  
The avian snorted and pushed through the grasses towards the city. "That's not our nature."   
  
"Saving complete strangers is?" Zack stumbled through the darkness, his feet hitting the dried dirt outside of the grasses with a hollow thudding sound. The night was clear now, without the Winds, and the moon reflected down on the Bird's backside, shimmering off the dark smears on his hindclaws. Clenched in the Hedgehog's claws, the Stone seemed to have stopped its ceaseless pounding at being taken from the earth, and now lay quiet and cold. The Bird was offering no reply. Sighing, Zack looked up from the ground to the avian. "Haven't you got a name?"   
  
A quiver ran along the Bird's feathers, raising them in a wave. "People like me don't have them."   
  
Zack snorted, catching up to the Bird who stood, stopped in the clearing before the gate. "That's bull. I'm not going to just keep calling you 'Bird' all the time. And you had to have a name at some point. Even Birds use names."   
  
"It doesn't belong to me anymore," He paused, gazing over his shoulder. "Why do I need one, anyway? I don't call you by your name."   
  
The Hedgehog rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration, standing beside the Bird. There was a sort of pathetic lethargy to the avian's voice when he spoke about his species, but there was no way that Zack could know why. "We've been in the middle of nowhere for three days, and we're the only people here. 'Course you don't use my name here. But we're going in there," He waved a claw at the gates, which loomed like a tunnel in front of them, the wood black under the wan light. "There's going to be Dragons everywhere, and you're we're going to need to be able to get eacother's attention." The Bird's eyes glinted at him, but still no reply. "Fine, I'll give you one then."   
  
Feathers fluffed on end at that. "You can't just give someone another name, that's just not-"   
  
"You said you haven't got one anymore, and I'm not going to just keep calling you 'you.' So deal with it." He looked upwards, towards the moon that stood bulky in the sky, blue-white like a saucer. "It's a clear night...How do Birds name eachother?" The Avian shrugged his feathers, taking awkward steps forward as the Hedgehog walked. "Not going to tell me, huh? Well...You believe in meaningful names, right?" Another shrug, and silence. "How about Cloud?"   
  
The Bird lowered his head and looked away towards the grasses surrounding them, sighing in defeat. "Fine...I don't care."   
  
Zack couldn't help but smile slightly to himself as they approuched the gate, the Bird was such a strange creature. They weren't the same race, he was going to have to remember, or it was going to continue to smack him upside the head when he wasn't looking in that direction. The races kept primarily to themselves, and it was only extreme situations- or extreme weirdos- that crossed the cultural taboos. Right now, Zack wasn't exactly sure which he was...but the Bird seemed to be driven by something else.   
  
Although too large to open on their own, the gate was locked and guarded after the night Winds tore through. The Hedgehog and the Bird had only to reach the solid weatherbeaten surface before a spurt of fire from above warned them back. Zack, hand still clasped over his eye, reached out and caught a handful of the feathers along Cloud's back, steadying himself as he backpedaled. The Stone intertwined between fingers and plumage, digging into his palm. Pacing atop the wall, smoke curling from her lips, a dragon lashed her tail at them both angrily. Her eyes followed them as she stalked back and forth, the moon reflecting off her nigh-silver scales.   
  
"The gate's closed, go back."   
  
Zack could feel the Bird shrinking backwards, trying to pull out from under his grip and retreat. He tightened his claws and looked up, teeth gritted. "This is an emergency, there's something strange going on out in the woods-"   
  
The Dragon snorted, a small spurt of flame licking from her nostrils. "Strange? I'll say. A Bird and a Hedgehog, crawling around after the Winds, a hundred miles from any shelter? What kind of magic are you playing at, Mud Worm?" She twirled the strange bladed weapon held in her claws, and pointed it at them. Cloud shrunk further against the Hedgehog's side.   
  
Zack felt his spikes raise up in response to the Dragon's insult. "Look, you idiotic Fire Lizard, maybe _you_ don't see danger when it's staring you in the face, but the Striped Ones are out there with something that's got great power," He ignored the fact that the Dragon had stopped pacing, and was now standing, her eyes slitted and smoke billowing from her nostrils with each breath. "More power than you stupid Dragons understand. They're going to abuse the hell out of it and come for you too, unless you do some-"   
  
The Dragon guard had had enough of the Hedgehog's inconsiquential ramblings. With a sound like leather being whipped taut in the wind, her wings spread and the Saurian leapt from the wall, diving down towards the intruders with her weapon clutched at her underside, a trained formation.   
  
Blue light shattered the night air. Bright and burning as the winter sun off the snow, it exploded from within Zack's clenched hand and expanded outwards in a dome. Cloud let out a shriek, tried to tear away, but Zack's claws held their grip and the Avian could only stumble and slip, hitting the ground with a rough thud. Flying headlong into the light, the Dragon was bowled backwards, blinded and singed. The light, as spontaniously as it had chosen to appear, began to drift apart like fog clearing in the sunlight, slowly leaving the air dark until it was gone. The ground at Zack's feet was left raked and smoothed by the untouchable force, he and the Bird at the epicenter. He could see the Dragon struggling to right herself against the wall, her arm held against her eyes and cloths singed black. Cloud was at his feet, half fallen, panting hard.   
  
Between the Bird's back and his claws, the Terra Stone was humming violently enough that he could feel it reverbrating through his claws and deep into his spine. He was certain the Bird could feel it as well.   
  
There was a wet sound as the Dragon spit, black saliva smearing the ground. A hand still sheilding her eyes, she looked at the fallen Bird and the half-blind Hedgehog. "What...what did you do?"   
  
Zack's eye was burning, paining him like small slivers of metal slowly burrowing into his flesh. The vibrating of the Stone only made it worse, and his voice showed it, ragged and course. "It's what the Striped Ones have," he growled at her.   
  
The Dragon inched along the wall, her spine flat against the blocks and hand still against her eyes, wings crunched awkwardly. Her voice was shaken. With her left clawed hand, she scratched an erratic series on the wood of the door before letting her arm fall. "The Dragon Council," she rasped at them. "You'll be taken to see our Council."   
  
Muscle strung out over a skeleton, a golem with no soul and no existance beyond that of its command would have made a sound more welcoming than the deep, screeching squeal of the gate's hinges. The sound pushed past teeth, down the throat on needle sharp nails and slithered through the stomach before it ended. Beyond the gate, eyeless faces in the night light, the buildings of the Dragon city gaped blindly at the Hedgehog and Bird as they staggered slowly over the threshhold and entered a foreign land. 


End file.
